


The fight

by random_firework



Series: Swesson Love Week [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Break Up, Declarations Of Love, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Reconciliation, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-19 10:09:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8201378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/random_firework/pseuds/random_firework
Summary: In the end, they just both want their relationship to work.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the seventh (and unfortunately last) day of the Swesson Love Week. I was inspired by the prompt: “Post-break up AU: they have to see each other everyday and they still love the other but they broke up for something stupid and it still hurts”, because I wouldn't be me if I didn't write angst once in a while ;) 
> 
> Enjoy!

One Saturday morning, Sam woke up knowing instantly what he had to do that day. It was scary and it would be hard but he had to talk to Dean. He took a quick shower before joining his boyfriend in the living room. 

“Hey babe,” Dean said distractedly. 

Sam poured some coffee in his cup and mentally braced himself. His heart was racing but he forced himself to calm down. He could do this. He sat across Dean, who was reading the newspaper sports page like every morning. “Hey Dean…” he began.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you think it’s time?”

Dean looked up at him with a confused expression on his face. “Time for…?”

“Telling people at work about us.”

Dean sighed and closed his newspaper. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sam.”

“Why not? I checked, you’re not my direct superior, so technically, we can’t get fired because of that.”

Dean shifted in his seat. “It’s not about that…”

“So what is it?” Sam cried out. 

“It’s…something private, you know? They don’t need to know, do they?”

“I’m not talking about doing a speech or hanging a sign or whatever. It’s just…” Sam felt his throat tighten and tears of frustration fill up the corner of his eyes. “We’ve been together for a year and a half, Dean. I’ve been living here for six months and we can’t even go to work together so people don’t get suspicious, I mean…Are you ashamed of me or something?”

“Of course not, Sam!”

“So you don’t…care about me?”

“You know I do, Sammy, but this I-I can’t.”

Sam didn’t answer right away. He had said all he had to say, after all. “I see,” he murmured sadly, for himself. Then he took his jacket and left the apartment without another word. The last thing he heard was Dean’s “Come back, Sam” shouted in his back as he closed the door behind him.

 

**

 

Dean let the day go by, waiting for Sam to come home and busying himself with some work. Because he was going to come back, wasn’t he? It wasn’t like they hadn’t fight before. Sam would always walk away, get some fresh air and, after a few hours, meet up with him with a smile on his face.

However, as the evening got closer, Dean glanced at the clock more often. At the end of the afternoon, with still no news from his boyfriend, he took his phone and texted him. So, okay, maybe he had hurt his feelings a little. But he could make it up to him. 

**6:32 pm: I’m making dinner tonight, what do you wanna eat?**

After sending the text, he stared at his phone, waiting for an answer that didn’t come.

**6:55 pm: Sam?**

Minutes passed and turned into hours. A heaviness grew inside of Dean and he tried to understand why his boyfriend was sulking. They had had worst fights after which Sam had come around. He dialed Sam’s number. The series of beeps didn’t seem to want to stop. When he heard the first words of the messaging service, he hung up and called again, and again, and one last time, without success.

**9:26 pm: Sam, I’m sorry. Come home so we can talk about it.**

**11:12 pm: Sam?**

**00:30 am: I’m starting to worry. Are you okay?**

**00:38 am: Sam, let me know that you’re okay at least.**

Dean called his number again and his blood ran cold when it went straight to the voicemail. With trembling fingers, he typed one last, desperate, text.

**00:40 am: Sam?**

Dean stayed up all night. He hit the bars of the neighborhood, asking if anyone had seen Sam, but he didn’t have much hope, as he had noticed that his car was gone too. He came back to the apartment and called some of Sam’s friends he had the number of. The few that answered had no information. He ended the last call, his last hope, twitchy, and started pacing in the living room, clutching his cell phone. He had never felt so helpless in his entire life. 

 

At nine in the morning, after a final try to reach Sam’s phone, he dialed another number, heart beating.

“Yes?” a gruff voice answered.

Dean winced. Despite his best efforts, he had never could win a place in John’s heart and, truth be told, he even scared him a little.

“Hello Mr. Wesson, this is Dean, uh-”

“What do you want Dean?”

Dean was about to stutter an answer but indistinct noises and muttering at the other end of the line prevented him to do so. “Give me the phone, John,” he finally heard. Just after, the same female voice said:

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean sighed, relieved. Sam’s mother was a gentle woman who had always made him feel welcome. “Hello, Mary. Is Sam here? He didn’t come home last night and I’m very worried.”

“Yes, he’s here.” Dean felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. “He arrived pretty upset yesterday. He still is.”

“I can explain, I-”

“I’m going to stop you right here. Sam didn’t exactly tell me what happened and I respect his decision. The way I see it, though, you hurt my son and you have to fix it.”

“I will.”

“Good. I’ll tell Sam you called.”

“Thank you.”

“Goodbye Dean.”

The line went dead before Dean could answer anything. “Okay”, he sighed. “Okay.”

 

All day long, Dean tried to reach Sam, in vain. The only contact they had was when Sam texted him to let him know he was going to check in a hotel for a few days. “I understand. Tell me if you need anything,” answered Dean. Needless to say, he received no answer. 

 

The week went by slowly. Sam seemed to avoid him at work and the rare times they crossed paths, he lowered his head and resolutely kept his eyes on anything but Dean. When Dean had said he understood, he wasn’t lying. He hoped Sam would come around and that everything would be like before again, and in the meantime he tried to give him some space while showing him he cared at the same time with a text here and there to make him laugh – texts that stayed without any answer from Sam.

 

Ten days after their last real conversation, Dean was about to go to bed when his phone rang. His heart jumped when he saw the name of the caller and he hastened to pick up.

“Sam?”

“Dean.” Sam’s voice was stern like never before and made Dean shiver. “I’ve been thinking.”

Dean held his breath, agonizing during the second Sam stayed silent.

“I don’t think this relationship can work anymore.”

Dean felt like he was being stabbed in the heart. “Wh-what?”

“I love you. But we don’t see things, _important things_ , the same way, I guess. I’m sorry, I can’t go on like this forever.”

“But…Sam, no! We can figure it out!”

“Dean…”

“Sammy, please! I’m begging you.”

“I’ll come pick up my stuff when you’re at work.”

“Don’t hang up, don’t-”

But Sam hung up. 

For the first time in a long time, Dean Smith cried himself to sleep.

 

**

 

Sam went to work the next day with a heart as heavy as a thousand stones, but somehow feeling that he had done the right thing. Dean didn’t love him as much as he did, it was clear and simple. He had been a fool to believe it was the case. Breaking up with him was the right decision to make, even though it wasn’t easy. At the end of the day, it would be better for the both of them. 

He was inside of the elevator and the doors were about to close when the last person he wanted to see jumped in. Their eyes met. Dean crossed the crowd of the elevator and stood close – too close – to him.

“Sam, we have to talk,” he whispered.

Sam didn’t answer and forced himself not to look up. He jerked away when Dean tugged at his shirt, which made several people turn their heads to them. Luckily, the elevator had reached tech support’s floor. He walked out but Dean followed him.

“Sam! Sam, wait! Please listen to me at least, I-”

“Leave me alone!” Sam hurled. 

“No. I won’t leave things like this, I can’t. Please, Sammy…”

They had reached his cubicle and Sam was aware that the whole floor had stopped to watch the two of them but Dean didn’t stop.

“I love you!” he shouted in the tense silence. “I am sorry, Sam. I fucked up big time, I know it now. I hadn’t realized it meant so much to you,” he continued. “I should have. I’ve been a jerk to you, too many times. But I promise I’ll change, I’ll be a better person. Please, give me a second chance. I promise I’ll make you as happy as you make me everyday.”

Sam shifted on his feet. “Do you really...mean that?”

Dean looked at him straight in the eyes and nodded. “I do,” he said without any hesitation.

“Okay,” Sam whispered.

Dean’s smile was so sincere when he said “Thank you” that Sam knew, this time for sure, that he had made the right decision.

Dean approached slowly until he could stroke Sam’s cheek. 

Sam’s heart was beating furiously fast and he barely heard himself when he murmured: “Dean…people…”

“I don’t care” was Dean’s answer just before he firmly cupped Sam’s jaw and kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it! :)  
> Comments and kudos are really appreciated <3


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